


Sweater Problems

by Manuscriptor



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Beetlejuice Tries to Help and Makes more Problems, Beetlejuice said Dumbass Rights, Gen, High school crushes, just general tomfoolery and hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manuscriptor/pseuds/Manuscriptor
Summary: What was bothering Lyds clearly had to be high school.So Beetlejuice had to make a plan.Nothing too complicated. Nothing that was over-the-top. Absolutely nothing that wasn’t uncalled for. In Beetlejuice’s mind, it was the most reasonable response ever to finding out that something was bothering his very best friend in the whole entire world.Beetlejuice had to burn down high school.
Relationships: Lydia Deetz & Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Sweater Problems

**Author's Note:**

> dni if you ship Beetlejuice and Lydia, this is not a ship fic and should not be read as such

Beetlejuice didn’t know what high school was. 

He didn’t know why it was important. He didn’t know why it was there. When Lydia explained it to him the first time, it sort of made sense—going off for a day to a strange building, maybe learning something new, sure, whatever, as lame as that sounded, it did _kinda_ make sense. Barely. That was the only vague idea of what he knew it was. When Lydia had to go back the next day and the day after that and the day after that, _that_ was what Beetlejuice didn’t understand. 

His impression of it was that it was pretty useless, not particularly interesting, and overall boring. Whatever high school actually was.

So when Lydia returned from school one day in a huff, stomping through the house, and slamming herself in the bathroom, Beetlejuice figured something had to be up. 

“Hey,” Charles said, catching him right as he was raising an arm to go through the door. “Bathrooms are off limits.” He had bags under his eyes and was holding a full cup of black coffee, like he was working long hours and didn’t know how to have fun, but he pulled out a spray bottle that Beetlejuice instinctively knew was holy water and aimed it at him. 

“Geez, C-dog, get off my dick!” Beetlejuice said, jumping away and settling himself in the upper corner of the hallway where the wall met the ceiling. “No need to pull out the big guns. What the hell?!” 

Charles just gave him a tired look, took a drink of his coffee, and walked off. 

Beetlejuice stayed up in the corner for a moment longer, just to make sure that it was safe before crawling back down. 

He knocked on the bathroom door. You could even call it polite. “Hey, Lyds!” he said. “You’ll never believe what I did today.” 

There was no response. 

Beetlejuice pounded harder on the door. “Lyds!” he said. “Come on! You have to guess! Guess what I did today!” 

Still nothing. 

“Hey, Lyds!” Beetlejuice said, knocking even harder. “Lyds! You need to guess! I want you to guess, Lyds. Unlimited guesses. As many as you need. Come on, this is gonna be fun! Guessing games are always fun. Lydia. Lyds. L-man. L-dog. L-to-the-dia, come on, it’s no fun if you don’t guess. That’s literally the whole game.” 

The bathroom door finally opened, and Lydia walked out, red faced and flustered. But she shoved past him before he could say anything. “Not today, B,” she said. “Leave me alone.” 

Beetlejuice watched her stomp down the hall and disappear into her room. The door was slammed even harder than the bathroom door, leaving Beetlejuice outside just like before. His fist was still raised, about to knock on the bathroom door, and honestly, Beetlejuice was kinda speechless. 

He turned to follow her and jumped back to the ceiling when Charles was there, same tired look and same spray bottle. He didn’t even have the guts to look impressed. 

“GE-sus!” Beetlejuice said, hanging from the bottoms of his feet. “We need to get you a bell, Chuck. You’re like a ghost.” He snickered at his own joke. 

Charles didn’t look nearly impressed. 

Beetlejuice crossed his arms and tried to look as nonchalant as possible. “Look, _dude_ , I wasn’t doing _anything_. Hey, I have an idea, why don’t _you_ take a chill pill? Huh? Doesn’t that sound like a wild idea? Honestly that sounds pretty good to me.” 

“Don’t,” Charles said and took another long sip of coffee. “Just . . . don’t.” 

“Christ, you’re acting as if I tried to marry her,” Beetlejuice said and snickered. Charles still didn’t seem to think his jokes were any good. “Fine. I pinky promise,” he said, offering a hand down to Charles to shake on it. 

Charles didn’t even humor him, just walking down the hall towards his own office. Beetlejuice was left hanging, literally on all fronts, and stuck out his tongue in Charles’s vague direction before disappearing in a puff of smoke and reappearing at the end of Lydia’s bed. 

“You didn’t guess, Lyds,” he said. “It’s no fun if you don’t play the game, you know.” 

A pillow hit him in the face, and Beetlejuice had just enough time to make himself a bit more incorporeal so that the next one flew right through his head instead of hitting him like before.

He was shocked. 

Lydia had never done anything like this before the entire time they had known each other.

“Lyds!” he said, about to tell her just how rude that was and how best friends never treat each other like that. 

Lydia didn’t even let him finish. “Let me alone,” she said, burying her face even deeper in her phone. She had squished herself into the corner of her bed, not looking at him, pretending as hard as she could that he wasn’t there it seemed.

Beetlejuice sat there a moment, staring at her. She obviously needed to be cheered up. Something was obviously wrong. Maybe it was something on her phone. Maybe it was something Charles had done. Maybe Adam and Barbara had done or said something. Really, it could be any one of those.

Beetlejuice slipped out of the room as quietly as he could, still lost in thought but wanting to give her the space she obviously wanted. No, no, none of those things seemed right. He would know if it was any of those things. 

What was bothering Lyds clearly had to be high school.

So Beetlejuice had to make a plan. 

Nothing too complicated. Nothing that was over-the-top. Absolutely nothing that wasn’t uncalled for. In Beetlejuice’s mind, it was the most reasonable response ever to finding out that something was bothering his very best friend in the whole entire world. 

Beetlejuice had to burn down high school. 

Or kill it. 

Starve it? Curse it and drag it to hell maybe. Beetlejuice still wasn’t entirely sure what high school was but he would deal with it in any way possible if it was bothering Lydia. And it _was_ bothering Lydia. And Beetlejuice was going to do something about it. He was going to. Tomorrow, when Lydia had to go back to high school, Beetlejuice was going to go with her and he was going to do something about it. 

// 

Since Beetlejuice didn’t really know where or what or who high school actually was, he had to wait until Lydia left the next day. He followed her all the way to the strange building, wrinkled his nose at the grimy halls, half-cleaned bathrooms, and stuffy classrooms. Everything smelled, and while Beetlejuice would never normally say that was a bad thing, it didn’t smell bad enough to be good. 

It just smelled _off_. 

He prowled around the building for a while, making himself look like a teenager just for the fun of it-- so he blended in a bit better while he was figuring out the twists and turns. He jumped every time the bell went off and stayed out of the way for the most part. It was around the third or fourth bell that he finally accepted that he was lost in the hallways and was settling down in a random closet, preparing to haunt the building until he found his way out again, when he heard the familiar voice of someone he would recognize anywhere. 

“Lyds!” he exclaimed, jumping through the closet door and scanning around excitedly. “L-man?” 

The hallway was absolutely crowded, bustling with dozens of the off-smelling humans. Beetlejuice spun around, looking for Lydia. She had to be here somewhere. He could hear her so she had to be nearby.

And he spotted her a moment later, chatting with someone he didn’t recognize, leaning casually against the rows of lockers. She was smiling and laughing at what the other person was saying, taking a moment to tuck her hair behind her ears and then saying something that made the other person laugh. 

“Lyds!” Beetlejuice exclaimed, shoving through the crowd to get her. He glared back at anyone who glared at him, twisting his face around to make them jump back in alarm.

He slammed to a stop against the lockers next to her, beaming with pride, figuring she would be just as happy to see him too. 

In one smooth motion, Lydia turned, yanking open the locker she had been leaning against, grabbing the front of his shirt and shoving him inside. Beetlejuice was stunned but only for a moment as the door was slammed shut after him. He could tell she was leaning against it from the outside, so he stepped through the side and then slipped out the front of the next locker.

“Hey!” he said. “Why’d you do that, Lyds?” 

“Lyds?” the other person asked, looking to Lydia for some sort of confirmation. 

“L-dog,” Beetlejuice said helpfully. “Lyds. My best pal. My best friend. Scarecrow!” 

The person giggled. “Scarecrow, I like that. I’m stealing it.” They winked at Lydia before turning back to Beetlejuice. “I’m Sweater.” 

“Beetlejuice,” Beetlejuice said, sticking out his hand because he knew that was customary. He was shocked when Sweater shook it. Was that always supposed to happen? 

The person laughed. “I love your name,” they said. 

Lydia had her face buried in her hands, shoving herself back against the locker as far as she could. And then she straightened, jumping between Beetlejuice and Sweater and pushing him away. 

“Hey, me and my . . . _friend_ need to talk for a moment,” she said to Sweater. “Can we have a moment?” 

Sweater just shrugged. “I need to head to class anyway. I’ll see you at lunch, huh . . . . _Scarecrow._ ” 

Lydia’s face went bright pink, but Sweater was already turning and walking away, books clutched in their arms and a nonchalant swagger to their step. Beetlejuice watched them go. He was almost impressed. He liked them immediately and he didn’t know why Lydia was shoving him into the storage closet he had come out of earlier. 

“What are you doing here?!” she hissed.

“Helping you,” Beetlejuice said, trying to climb past her back out into the hall. “Who was that?”

She spread her legs, planting a hand on either side of the doorframe to block him. “Nobody,” she said. 

“Not nobody,” Beetlejuice said. “Sweater. They said so.” 

Lydia’s face was still a burning pink as she glared at him. “Sweater. Okay. You met them. Happy now? You need to go home. I have no idea why you thought it would be a good idea to come here!” 

Beetlejuice pouted. “Because I wanted to help,” he said. “You seemed so upset yesterday. I thought I would come see what the problem was.”

“It’s nothing!” Lydia hissed. “Go home. Dad is probably wondering where you are.” 

“Is Sweater the problem?” Beetlejuice whispered. “Because you can tell me if they are.” 

Lydia’s face went even more red, if that were possible. “Sweater is _not_ the problem! Okay! You need to _go home_!”

Beetlejuice’s hair turned a lime green. He could feel the color change himself, as he smiled and made himself just a little less real. “No,” he said. “I want to meet Sweater. They seem cool.” He slipped through Lydia and back out into the hall. 

It was mostly empty at this point. The bell had rung and that obviously meant something to them all. 

Beetlejuice spun around, spreading his arms wide and sauntering backwards down the hall. “Look, Lydia!” he said, changing his clothes so he wore jeans full of holes and those clunky sneakers he had heard her complaining about. “I’m a teenager!” 

“Beetlejuice, I swear to god!” Lydia said, slamming the closet shut and hurrying after him.

“No, swear to me,” Beetlejuice said. With one last grin, he fell backwards and sunk into the ground, watching Lydia’s panic face follow him all the way to the linoleum. 

He still had no idea where he was going. 

So he hung around the pipes, spying on the different classrooms full of kids like Lydia. And now him. He remembered Sweater mentioning lunch, so when he found a huge room that smelled like a bigger, dirtier version of the Deetz’ kitchen, he figured that would be the place to stick around. 

He found a rowdy table of teen boys who were very impressed by the way he could chug milk until it shot out of his nose, and Beetlejuice entertained himself by doing this over and over and over until the bells rang and the groups cycled through and he spotted Sweater out of the corner of his eye. 

It wasn’t hard to miss them. 

They had dark skin, and their hair was picked and combed out into a perfect afro. They wore overalls that weren’t buckled, a t-shirt that looked like it had been hemmed shorter by hand, and sneakers that were almost as large as Beetlejuice’s. 

He made a beeline for them, wiping snot and milk off his chin. 

“Hey!” he said, crashing down into the seat next to them and making them spit out their own milk. He laughed and snorted before he could stop himself. 

Sweater just snorted too, wiping the milk off their face and flicking the droplets at Beetlejuice. “What’s up?” they said, grabbing their bag of chips instead. “By the way, I love your name.” They glanced over Beetlejuice’s head. “And your hair.” 

“Why thank you,” Beetlejuice said. “You can call me Bj. Or Big Man. Or the Coolest Guy You’ll Ever Meet.” 

“Or Big Dumb Idiot Who Doesn’t Know How to Keep Out of My Business,” Lydia said, snapping her tray down across from them and sitting down harder than needed. “Sorry I’m late. Mr. Johnson wanted to talk to me after class.”

Sweater wrinkled their nose and made a face. “Again? That’s like the third time this week.” 

“And it’s only Thursday!” Beetlejuice cut in, wheezing and pounding on the table. He really did outdo himself with the jokes. 

Sweater snorted and laughed too, almost choking on their mouthful of chips before recovering. “Where have you been the whole school year?” they said. “Everyone here is boring and unfunny.” They smiled at Lydia and winked. “Except for you, babe, of course.”

Beetlejuice looked at Sweater’s afro. 

“Hey, can I touch your—Fuck! Lyds, why did you kick me?! Fuck, that _hurt_!” 

Lydia didn’t respond. She just ripped open her own bag and chips and shook them out onto her plate. She acted like she hadn’t even done anything. “Anyway,” she said. “The after-school photography project. Remember?” 

Beetlejuice propped his chin on his hand, leaning eagerly on the table. 

Lydia shot him a dark look.

“I had a couple ideas,” Sweater said, not catching the exchange between them. They were already pulling out their phone and swiping through their home screen, pulling up their photo album and then scrolling to find a specific file. “I was looking through some stuff last night. Let me know what you think.” 

They placed their phone on the table, turning it around and then sliding it across to Lydia. Beetlejuice made a grab at it, wanting to see too. Lydia snatched it up too quickly though. Sweater just elbowed Beetlejuice while Lydia looked over the phone.

“Watch this,” they said. They tore off a corner of their sandwich and tossed it into the air, tipping their head back and opening their mouth to catch it. 

The sandwich fell apart as soon as it left Sweater’s hand though, most of it just falling on their face. They caught the top piece of bread triumphantly in their mouth, beaming wide at Beetlejuice.

“Ta-da!” they said, picking a stray piece of meat off of their forehead. 

Beetlejuice was in awe. 

“I wanna try!” he said. 

Lydia kicked him under the table again.

“These look good,” she said instead, returning Sweater’s phone. “I have some time after school today, if that works for you.” 

Sweater was already nodding. “Sure,” they said, licking chip dust off their fingers and picking up their phone. “I’m completely free, so we can spend as much time as we need.”

Lydia nodded too, turning her attention back to her food. 

“Hey,” Beetlejuice said, climbing halfway up onto the table and waving to get both of their attentions. “Watch this.” 

He propped his elbow up, letting his hand dangle, before swatting it with his other hand. His joints were already loose, so it wasn’t that hard to make his hand pinwheel through the air with the noise of a kazoo. The kazoo part was just for fun. 

Lydia buried her face in her hands with a groan, and Sweater snorted a loud laugh. 

“Dude, my body does that sometimes too,” they said, raising their elbow and trying to copy him. They weren’t nearly as successful as he had been.

Lydia looked like she was going to yell at them both, but a bell cut her off. Everyone around them groaned in unison and began gathering their trays and garbage and heading back out with their groups of friends. Beetlejuice had no idea what was going on, but Lydia shot him a glare as she stood and collected her tray. 

“I’ll see you later,” she said to Sweater, her tone much more friendly. 

She spun around and hurried away, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Beetlejuice wasn’t sure if he was supposed to follow her or not. Honestly, Sweater seemed cooler than Lydia. But they were gathering up their tray and garbage too, giving Beetlejuice a salute and a smile before disappearing into the crowd in the complete opposite direction. 

Beetlejuice was torn for a moment, glancing after both of them while the room continued to empty around him. 

After a moment longer, he turned in the direction Lydia had gone. He had _questions_.

“What project are you working on?” he asked. “The one you were talking about.” 

He had landed an empty desk right next to her even though he had to lean across the aisle and since he had already gotten dirty looks from the woman at the front of the room, he knew enough to whisper. Lydia was hunched over the piece of paper, scribbling furiously, brow furrowed as she concentrated as hard as she could. When she didn’t react to Beetlejuice’s question, he figured that she hadn’t heard him. 

He scooted his desk closer and tried again. 

“Lyds,” he whispered. “Did you hear me? What was the project you were talking about?” 

“Quiet please!” the woman at the front said. She looked exhausted though, sinking back down in her chair and holding up the book she was reading so that she didn’t have to look at all the students. 

“Lyds,” Beetlejuice said. “Can you hear me? Am I not whispering loud enough?”

“I’m trying to concentrate!” Lydia hissed back, under her breath. She was scribbling even harder now, her knuckles white with how tightly she was gripping her pencil. The lead suddenly snapped, and Lydia snatched up a hand-held pencil sharpener, twisting it with sharp movements to give her pencil a new point.

“Why?” Beetlejuice asked. 

Lydia glared venom at him, holding her pencil that now a fresh new sharpened point. “Because this,” she said, teeth clenched in a tight smile as she gestured at the piece of paper. “Is a _test_. _Okay_?”

Beetlejuice looked down at his own paper. The teacher had set it down on the desk when they were handing out papers to everyone, and he hadn’t thought that much of it. He couldn’t read anything on it, hadn’t tried to read it, didn’t think it was important in any way. And now that he thought about it, he didn’t really know what a test was. 

He crumpled the piece of paper and popped it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing.

That took care of that. 

“I’m done,” he whispered to Lydia. “Now what?” 

She ignored him, already back to writing on her own piece of paper. Beetlejuice wiggled his desk closer, so he didn’t have to lean across the aisle so much. 

“Lyds,” he whispered when she still didn’t respond. “Now what?” 

“Leave me alone,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

Beetlejuice huffed and sat back in his chair, kicking his feet against the back of the desk in front of him. The student whipped around and glared at him before hunching over the paper just like Lydia. The teacher was staring at him with narrowed eyes, too exhausted to actually get up and do something about it but obviously irritated that Beetlejuice was there. 

Beetlejuice gave her his most confident smile and sunk down into his chair. He sank down through the floor and then through pipes down into the classroom that was on the floor below them. He hung on the ceiling, staring at the empty room and then sighed. 

This was a lot more boring than he anticipated. 

He wandered the empty halls, got excited whenever the bells rang because students would flood out of the classrooms, and only half-heartedly looked for Lydia and Sweater. He didn’t really care about finding them. It wasn’t particularly important.

Some sort of final bell rang, and the only reason Beetlejuice could tell was because the students all started collecting bags and backpacks and rushed out the front doors instead of heading back to class. He slipped through the crowds, craning his neck, and finally spotted Lydia and Sweater.

They were walking side-by-side, talking and laughing together. Sweater was gesturing wildly with their hands, telling some sort of complicated story or maybe hilariously funny joke. Lydia was laughing and kept covering her smile with a hand or tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. They didn’t even notice Beetlejuice until he popped up between them, hooking his arm through theirs. 

“Howdy!” he said. “Hey, Lyds, school is crazy. I don’t like it.” 

Lydia glowered at him but Sweater actually looked happy to see him. They slugged him in the shoulder, and it actually caught Beetlejuice off guard. It only took him a moment to recover though, and he elbowed Lydia. 

“Hey, I like this kid,” he said. “Now, are we doing that after-school project or what?” 

“Oh yeah!” Sweater said, leaning forward so they could look across Beetlejuice and talk to Lydia directly. “I figured we could just head there directly if that’s okay with you. My schedule’s completely free.” 

“Of course,” Lydia said and looked pointedly at Beetlejuice. “But I think some of us have other stuff to do.” 

Beetlejuice looked at Sweater. “Do you have anything you need to do?” 

Sweater shook their head. “Nah, I’m 100% free.”

Beetlejuice looked back at Lydia with a wide smile. “Would you look at that?” he said with a playful nudge. “None of us have other stuff to do. Come on, Lyds, let’s go.” 

“Yeah,” Sweater said, stepping in time with Beetlejuice and helping drag Lydia along. “Let’s go, _Scarecrow_.” 

Lydia’s face went pink but she clamped her mouth shut and didn’t say anything as they waltzed out of the school. 

The place where they were heading in question turned out to be a park nearby. They took a trail up and into the woods until they reached a rocky lookout point. There was a great view of the city and neighborhoods that stretched out below them, but Sweater grabbed a chunk of undergrowth and held it aside to let Lydia climb through. 

There was a hidden path, apparently, and they took that even further. The forest was thicker hear and a bit harder to navigate. Sweater held Lydia’s hand to help her along, and Beetlejuice took the hint and he took Lydia’s other hand. She glared at him and snatched her hand away. Beetlejuice shrugged and continued walking at the back of the group.

It took several minutes of hiking, chatting and laughing between each other, before they arrived at a huge section of clearing with railroad tracks that stretched through it. Huge twisted oak trees lined the edges, parts of their limbs and leaves had obviously been cut away to make enough room for a train to pass through without any sort of danger. The grass and undergrowth had been cut down, but now huge stretches of wild flowers had managed to flourish and insects, bees, and butterflies buzzed and fluttered everywhere.

Sweater let go of Lydia’s hand and walked out into the open space, stretching their arms high over their head. The flowers game up to their waist and they had to wade out, leaving an open trail behind them. 

Lydia slung off her backpack, unzipping in and pulling out another bag. She carefully pulled out a camera and began fiddling with the settings as she turned it on. Beetlejuice hovered curiously, watching as she turned all the different knobs and flipped through different filters. 

“Careful,” she said, when Beetlejuice reached out to touch. “You could break this.” 

Beetlejuice just shrugged and kept his distance. “Oh, Lyds, you know I can break anything.” He snapped his arm the wrong way just to make his point.

“Look!” Sweater called, and they both looked up to see what they were yelling about. 

They had walked clear across the track to the other side of the clearing and had found a huge sunflower. A whole patch of them, in full bloom. They had yanked one up by its roots and was dragging it back to Lydia. It was nearly twice their height and it was a bit more than cumbersome. Add to the fact that Sweater was running back towards them, having to lift their knees awkwardly to clear the plants so they didn’t trip and fall.

Wordlessly, Lydia lifted the camera and with a click, took Sweater’s picture. 

Sweater wrinkled their nose and made a face. “Hey!” they said, finally reaching them. “I wasn’t ready.” 

“If I waited until you were ready, I’d never get any pictures,” Lydia said teasingly. 

Beetlejuice was too busy staring at the flower, the head dipped under its own weight and was now sagging a bit more in Sweater’s grip. It was as big as his own head, vibrantly yellow, and looking like it would taste delicious. 

He was completely unprepared when Sweater passed it off to him, the whole plant. It was heavier than he expected and the flower immediately wilted in his grip, the huge head of it almost hitting his face as it sunk down. He had never been that good with plants. 

Sweater was already pulling Lydia away, the camera safely hanging from its strap from her neck. They were laughing together, tripping through the flowers and almost falling over each other. Sweater grabbed the camera, using the strap to pull Lydia closer as they turned the camera on her and took a picture of her way too close. 

“Hey,” Lydia protested, cheeks more red than pink.

“Serves you right,” Sweater said. 

Beetlejuice watched them, still holding the sunflower. The stalk pricked the palm of his hand, the sap from the broken leaves was sticky and impossible to wipe off on his shirt, and the huge head of the sunflower was hanging down over him, almost condescendingly. 

Beetlejuice shook it. 

“What are you staring at, ugly?” 

His argument was interrupted as the tracks began to rumble. It was soft, barely noticeable at first. Beetlejuice dropped the offending flower and went to investigate. 

The tracks were indeed rumbling, buzzing under his feet as he stood on the metal struts. He kicked at the wood, wondering what was happening or what was making it move. 

“Does he know what’s going on?” Sweater asked. 

“Beets!” Lydia yelled. “You gotta move!” 

She yelled something else but Beetlejuice didn’t hear that. The roaring train that rounded the corner was kind of too loud and too fast, and he didn’t have the time to move out of the way like Lydia yelled at him to do. He made himself incorporeal instead, closing his eyes as the train blasted through him. 

It was loud and chaotic as car after car after car raced by. Beetlejuice didn’t dare move, since everything had become a blur of sound and motion and all that chaos was going right through him. He just waited it out because really, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Just noisy. 

It took several minutes before the last car swept through him, and Beetlejuice blinked and looked around, trying to figure out where he was and if everything was okay. 

“Holy fuck!” Sweater cheered, jumping in the air and running towards him. “That was so badass!” 

“It’s a good thing you waited on the _other_ side of the tracks,” Lydia said, staring at him sternly. 

Beetlejuice had no idea what she was talking about. “Nah, I was standing on them,” he said, jerking his thumb back towards the tracks. “It was crazy.” 

“Crazy is right!” Sweater said, running up to him and slugging him on the shoulder. “Dude, that was amazing!” 

Beetlejuice gave a theatrical bow. “Thank you,” he said. “At least _someone_ appreciates me.” 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said. “There’s not gonna be another train for a while.” 

Sweater snorted. “Yeah, and that’s not what we want.” 

Lydia just hefted her camera, aiming it mostly at Sweater. Beetlejuice saw what she was doing and jumped in the background as soon as it clicked, beaming as wide as he could and throwing a pose. Lydia glared at him, so he slunk off. He found the picked sunflower and grabbed it off the ground. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered when the head flopped over him. “You think you’re so funny.” He grabbed a fistful of petals and ripped them off, stuffing them into his mouth. He glared over where Lydia and Sweater were still talking and laughing together. 

Lydia kept the camera between them, occasionally bringing it up to snap a hurried—probably blurry—picture of Sweater. And sometimes, they plucked it out of her hands and turned it around on her as payback. They seemed to have forgotten that Beetlejuice was even there.

He twisted the sunflower head off of its stem and cracked it in half over his knee. He scraped a handful of seeds free and dumped them into his mouth. They were still green and extremely bitter, but Beetlejuice arranged them over his teeth and beamed, jack-o-lantern like. 

Lydia didn’t look impressed. 

Sweater was laughing. 

“Sick,” they said and then wrinkled their nose. “But does that taste good?” 

Beetlejuice spat them all out and rubbed at his tongue. “No,” he admitted. “It was actually pretty disgusting.” 

Sweater snorted. “Gross, but cool.” 

“Hey, I have an idea,” Lydia said, stepping between them and then making a show of walking back to where she had left her backpack. She repackaged up her camera, making sure it was safely in its proper compartment. “Let’s go home and get some _real_ food.” 

Beetlejuice had no idea what she was talking about since he didn’t need to eat, but Sweater looked enthusiastic about it. They hurried towards Lydia, linking their arms together and already marching them back towards the trails. Beetlejuice hurried after them, not wanting to be left behind.

The walk back down was easier than the trek up, and they got back to the park just as a bus was pulling up to a nearby stop. They had to run to catch it, and Beetlejuice made up an excuse about forgetting his student ID when the driver wouldn’t let him on board. The man looked exhausted though and after a couple minutes of Beetlejuice telling bad jokes to get him to crack up, he finally jerked a thumb at the seats and growled at him to sit down. 

It was only a couple stops later that they climbed off, and from there it was a short walk back to the Deetz’s house. Lydia shouted to alert their presence as they pushed through the front door, kicking off their shoes before walking further in. 

Beetlejuice followed them down the hall, but Lydia stopped him in the door of her bedroom. 

“I think you have something else to do,” she whispered. 

Beetlejuice shook his head. “No I don’t.” 

Lydia gritted her teeth. “Yes, you do.” 

Beetlejuice thought about it, wondering if there was something he had forgotten about that Lydia was remembering. But no, nothing came to mind. “No, I don’t think I do,” he said. “What are you guys gonna do? Is it gonna be fun?” 

“Homework,” Lydia said. “That’s it. Boring stuff. Now leave us alone.” 

She shut the door before Beetlejuice could say anything else. He considered walking through the door since solid surfaces and walls had never been a problem for him before. He got a full hand through the wall when he glanced over and spotted Charles standing in the hall, still holding his coffee cup and still looking exhausted, aiming the spray bottle at him. 

He mist-ed him before Beetlejuice even had the chance to protest. 

It wasn’t painful, per se. It burned a little since it was still holy water, but with a fine mist instead of an actual splash, it was more irritating than anything. 

Beetlejuice yelped and pulled his hand away, wiping his face clean and morphing out of his teenage form. He glared at Charles, wondering if he wanted a taste of his own medicine. Acid wouldn’t be too hard to just conjure up, and he did need to be taught a lesson. The dad had been getting too cocky lately.

“Bedroom is off limits,” Charles said, barely even looking impressed. 

“But you said the bathroom is off limits!” Beetlejuice protested. 

Charles just nodded. “Yeah, and so is the bedroom. Those are the rules.” 

“That’s so unfair!” Beetlejuice protested. “They’re both off limits?! Then where am I even supposed to go in this damn house?!” 

Charles sprayed him again and then turned, walking off down the hall. “I have work to do,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t get into trouble.” 

Beetlejuice glowered after him, wondering if disobeying was worth the trouble. He cocked his head when he heard laughter from Lydia’s room. What was the joke? Were they laughing at him? He wanted to know. 

He raised his hand to pass through the door, ready to do some sort of trick or flip to impress them and get the attention. Maybe he would take off his head and pretend that Chuck had done it. Now that would be funny. He could imagine just how angry Lydia would be, and oh man! Sweater would probably be so scared until they realized it was him, and then they would be impressed. 

But then there was more laughter, and Beetlejuice hesitated. 

He thought about what Chuck said.

Beetlejuice wasn’t about to let the stuffy old man tell him what to do, so he made his own _personal_ decision to walk away. He would have to tell Charles later that it one hundred percent wasn’t because of a rule that he had made. 

Bullshit. 

Beetlejuice would give Lydia and Sweater their space because he wanted to and no other reason. Because he was a nice friend. To both of them. And they seemed like friends too. He thought. Maybe they wanted to become friends. He wasn’t sure. Whatever. 

Beetlejuice had more interesting things to do anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> beetlejuice 🤝 nonbinary culture  
> being weird in the best  
> way possible
> 
> hey look, i'm on tumblr @manuscript-or


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